


Fire Escape

by caffeinated_pens



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Casual Sex, Depression, Dom Greg Lestrade, Implied/Referenced Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Sub Mycroft, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 12:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13635867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinated_pens/pseuds/caffeinated_pens
Summary: Greg is left alone with his thoughts a while.He comes to some conclusions.[TW for suicidal thoughts]{Warning for unshown sex}Quote at the end is from 'Fire Escape' by Andrew McMahonOriginally posted on tumblr.





	Fire Escape

Greg shivered, looking up at the moon from where he was perched on the bridge.  It was nice to get away from everything sometimes. 

 Work sucked.  He needed an escape from all the bodies, all the fights, all the heartbroken faces he had to interview every day.

His family sucked.  He hated having to visit his parents all they did was fight.  He remembered dinner a few hours ago.  He had slipped out amongst the screaming without being noticed.

His boyfriend sucked.  Right now, Mycroft was off at some high-class party for all his posh types.  A party to which the likes of Greg had not been invited.  Then again, Greg had used the word ‘boyfriend’ which he was not sure pertained to their situation at all.  It was all too confusing for him.  They went on dates, they had sex, they didn’t tell anyone, they went weeks on end without talking.  They were an item and they weren’t.  The times when they were together were so intense, so vulnerable, Greg believed he could fall in love at any moment.

He looked down at the water.  He had wanted to escape.  A permanent escape wasn’t so bad an idea.  He wouldn’t do it, of course, but god he loved to fantasize.  He liked to imagine that maybe, just maybe, he might have the guts this time.

He ignored his phone.   Just the git calling to wonder where he was.  The party must have ended already.  

**Leave me alone.  GL**

**Why? MH**

**I mean it. GL**

No response.  Least that meant Mycroft had gotten it through his stubborn skull that Greg didn’t want to talk.

God, he was such an idiot sometimes.  He had let himself fall for another casual partner.  Maybe he should jump.  Maybe he should just do the world a favor an- 

He slipped.

He wanted to scream, but not a sound came from his mouth, which was gaping open as he pulled himself back over.

It hadn’t been a bad slip.  It had been easy to get back up.  It was just enough to shake him.  He climbed down off the ledge where he had sat just a few seconds ago and leaned against the back of it.  Not caring that he was in public at 22:00, he let the tears stream down his face.

**Gregory, I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you.  I hope I’m not out of line to humbly request your forgiveness? MH**

**Just please come and get me.  GL**

He sighed.  Oh how the mighty have fallen.  Which of them was ‘the mighty’, he wasn’t quite sure.

It took a matter of minutes for the car to reach him.  He got in and they sat in silence on the drive.  He knew Mycroft, and he knew what this was.

The motel room was on the third floor.  It was grimy and dirty and looked as though it had never served a purpose besides what it was about to be used for.

Greg pulled off his shirt, a slight hint of anger evident from his tensed muscles.

“Gregory, I truly am sorry if I inconvenienced you in any way-”  
  
“Make it up to me then.”

He watched as the powerful and controlling Mycroft Holmes wordlessly stripped and sprawled himself across the bed to be used.

That  _was_  the arrangement.  Greg gazed at him hungrily, feeling everything wash away except burning hot passion the same as always as he reached for the rope Mycroft had brought in with them.

***

Waking in the arms of Mycroft Holmes was an unusual thing, being that the man was always up first, ready with a cup of coffee and a comment about the weather, as though he had not just been brutally dominated the night before.

Greg slipped out from under the covers and moved towards the sliding door that led towards the balcony, sloppily pulling his boxers on as he went.  He opened it silently and sat, bare legs dangling over the ledge.  He thought back to last night.  He cursed himself for not having the guts to jump.

He cursed himself for falling in love with that man, head lying gently on the pillow, red hair matted with sweat, freckled shoulders barely visible under the sheets.

He didn’t turn to look as the door slid open again.  He reached out his hand, knowing who it was and what he was carrying.  He took the coffee carefully, they both drank it black.  Mycroft sat next to him.

There was no need for words.  They just sat.

The sun was just beginning to rise and the birds were squawking their heads off.

Greg spoke, and his words melted into the silence, unanswered, unbothered with, just another noise to fill the moment.

“I love you.”

_The morning birds are taking flight, either way I thought that you should know…_


End file.
